


I'll love you to hell and back

by PandaRum



Series: Bury Your Bones Deep [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angel Stiles? I really don't know, Dark Character, Demon Lydia, Demon Stiles?, F/M, Fear of wolves and dogs, Hell, Mention of Blood Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2018-01-07 20:44:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1124197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PandaRum/pseuds/PandaRum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are stronger, older things out there then werewolves. Things that go bump in the night and are made from human souls, with all the darkness and bad in the world.  Lydia just happened to be one of those things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll love you to hell and back

**Author's Note:**

> This is none beta cause I don't know how to find someone and well....every mistake is mine. So sorry! and Enjoy! Lydia might be OC? I don't know.....

Iyzebel barely remembers what death was like and the only thing that stuck with her were the jaws that ripped through her meaty flesh, snapping bones like twigs and creating jagged holes into her body.

Dogs, Sama’el told her.

“You were eaten by dogs.”  

“Eaten?” she spoke the word slowly, mind couldn’t grasp _why_ but now understood the reason her body tended to freeze when Sama’el’s loyal hellhound eyed her from his feet. “Was it painful?”

“Yes,” he glanced at her, thumb running over hip lip. “You begged me to end it you.”

“But you didn’t?” Iyzebel asked.

He shook his head, a grin swiping over his lips as large, dark endless wings swept up, shadowing over her delicate body. She stepped back, glass digging into her bare feet.

Hell wasn’t what she had expected. Not the cool air that nipped at their naked bodies or the dark broken landscape, or the jagged glass that was meant to be grass and every once and a while she would find a piece of metal digging into the heel of her feet.

Iyzebel sighed as Sama’el motioned for her to sit, lifting her small foot to his face as bloody fingers pulled out a practically annoying piece. Tsking when blood dripped down being absorbed by the rotten ground.

“Why are you here? I thought you were suppose to be the good one?” he just gave her an amused smile that didn’t reach his eyes and dig a nail into her sores. She winced.

“I was neither good nor bad, _my_ _Queen_ ,” she frowned, not liking his teasing manner. “But that was a millennium ago. Now I reside here, taking care of a foolish woman I feel sorry for.”

“No,” Iyzebel shook her head, heart sinking as she came into a realization she didn’t want. “I am no woman, or a Queen for that matter. Not anymore atleast.”

“You’re right. You’re far worst.” Sama’el turned golden eyes and she knew he felt no sadness for her. She had made her bed and now she had to lay in it.

 

 

**===**

 

 

She never liked her name. Well that’s a lie. Sama’el said that she use to _adore_ her name as a human, but now as a demon and a powerful one at that—“You welcome,” Sama’el said, grinning before digging a blade so far into her body it got lost for a few hundred years—she distasted it.

“I want a new name,” she said, bring it up one night as she laid naked on her side, enjoying the way Sama’el’s eyes darkened as she stretched, pale skin barely lit by the fire that burned outside of the odd cave he used as his home.

“A new name? And what do you want to be called?” he asked when she nodded, eyeing the dripping red that went side by side with the screaming outside. She wrinkled her nose at the burning smell of flesh. This part of hell, the only part of hell, was always hot and maybe that’s why Sama’el enjoyed it, because his skin was always cold.

“Hmmm something scary,” she said with a grin, rolling over on her stomach, trailing a finger over his bare thigh, mouth going hungry with the need for his flesh and blood. “I want something that makes people shiver in fear, because I’m so _fucking_ awesome.”

He petted her long hair, thin fingers running over her scalp and scratching at the junction between her shoulder and neck. It got a purr out of Iyzebel. She enjoyed days? nights? time?—like this with Sama’el. It wasn’t often that they get spend a life in each other’s arms, the teacher and student. Her time was mostly taken up dealing with traitorous, back stabbing whores of women. Iyzebel always got a dry smirk on her face as she realizes the irony behind that. Someone downstairs was so-fucking-funny.

“How about Lilith?” Sama’el stopped his petting, staring down at her with a frown, “Ok that wasn’t funny.”

“No not really, but how about Lamia?”

If she had known then what that name would become she wouldn’t have agreed but then it was too late as she nodded her head. Her stomach doing something funny as _her_ angel leaned down to suck on her lips. Yes this was the life.

 

 

===

 

 

It wasn’t until years—many hundred, thousands of years later—that she realized that no matter what Iyzebel did she was always going to be bad. It was in her blood, dark and poisoned from being a part of hell for too long, just like Sama’el would always be neutral. No matter how many years he spent fucking her or carving a steely knife into a poor stupid soul. Because that was all he’ll ever get, poor stupid souls who were selfish and greedy, not like the dark tainted ones that belonged to her.

So when she finally got the chance she dug her way towards earth. Dirt cracked permanently into her nails and when she finally reached the top there Sama’el stood, leaning back against a large stick, teeth biting into a sweet peach. “Welcome to Earth, Iyzebel.” The _again_ was ignored.

===

“Why?” she croaked, head drooping down, chin pressed into her chest. The wreck of her breast told him that she was about to cry and a small part of her screamed that yes she may love Sama’el as much as a demon can, but there was no fucking way she can be so weak around him. What would the others say! After she had worked so hard to gain the fear of everyone! But she didn’t care and curled into him as he wrapped his arms around her shaking frame, mindful of the blood straining her hands and up to her elbows. “Why?”She asked again.

“God does not want you to be happy,” he simply said.

It was probably the worst thing Sama’el had ever told her and in a fit of rage she shoved him away, eyes black as her dead soul, hateful and nasty. “Is this suppose to be my punishment!” she screamed pointing at the lifeless body of a child. “Don’t turn away from me and tell me Sama’el! Tell me!”

It started a few years back, when she found herself watching mothers with their children and felt bitterness in her throat. Watching them cooing at crying babies and kissing chubby cheeks. There was a sort of longing and every time a child got close enough Iyzebel went to take a step forward and snatch them, but everytime Sama’el would wrap himself around her, wings blocking her view as he dragged her away, only sneering one word.

“Don’t.”

But he couldn’t always be there to watch her and she would slip. Take a child with her and try to mother it only for the little shit to bite her or scream that she ‘ _isn’t my mommy!’_ and it would hurt so _damn_ much! She only wanted them to love her, but they were always taken away from her. It wouldn’t take long for Sama’el to find her, still screaming in fright and on her knees, arms outstretched towards the body of the son or daughter she stole.

This time wasn’t any different, although…Iyzebel crawled to the boy. It was a boy this time and picked him up, cradling his broken body into her arms.

His name was Acacius and he had her red hair and green eyes, with Sama’el’s curved nose and dotted face. He had her chin and his cheeks and as she stared at this child that could have been theirs Iyzebel cried.

After she had fallen asleep, something that he forced her to do Sama’el took the boy’s body, bring it back to the village, to the worried parents who had been searching all night. Watching as the people cried out Iyzebel’s chosen name. Lamia had stuck again.

 He sighed, shoulders sagging before glancing behind, eyes glaring at the red ones who stared back.

You see it wasn’t she who killed the children, but the wolves that followed Iyzebel always torturing her, snapping at the heels of her feet and most importantly, scaring her. Another sigh left his lips as he thought about the way she froze, unable to protect the child her craved for, simply out of fear, as jaws buried into pale skin—it was always pale skin.

“Leave!” he roared, “Haven’t you done enough!”

 

 

===

 

 

She couldn’t see the wolves, not unless they wanted her to and they only wanted to when…She swallowed the bile down. So she rarely saw them, especially now that she stopped taking children. The name Lamia almost forgotten from the minds of humans, only the smart ones remembered. A sick grin fit onto her face.

Only Sama’el could see them now, she didn’t know why and she didn’t bother asking. He gave no answer back. It was fine like this, only it really wasn’t because as she took souls, fed on flesh and ripped into bodies Iyzebel knew that their kin, their pups were still around and she _could_ see them, her fear would never go away not as long as she remembered teeth and bones and blood, so much blood and pain.

No Iyzebel doesn’t think she’ll ever forget, not as long as Sama’el is there to remind her.

 

 

===

 

 

She turned, facing the mirror as she ran a hand over her new body. Her skin, not pale enough, her long red hair too crimson and her eyes were more blue then green. With one more twirl she turned to face Sama’el who laid out on the bed they had stolen for the night, body forever the same. She frowned, crawling to him, hands with fingers too bone slide up his thigh. “Do you like me this way?” she asked.

Grunting Sama’el blinked tiredly at her, “I like anyone you choose to be because it might be their body but it’s you all the way through.”

“You are so cheesy.” She gave a snort, tucking back a lock of hair as she rocked against him. “So does this mean you like how I smell of sulfur? Or that my soul is as rotten as that apple we saw the other day?” She didn’t have to explain about the apple, the grin on his face told her he understood. “Or that I sometimes ooze black slime?”

“Well,” Sama’el started with a grunt, biting the collar of her neck. “I’ve had _years_ to get use to your smelly ass and the soul part,” he looked up at her, grin on his lips as he sucked on her nice pink nipples. “Are souls really that important? Especially when you have a body like this,” it got her to laugh, bright and loud and happy. “And I like when you ooze. It’s _sexy_.”

Iyzebel gasped, arching when he slide inside, “ _Lie_ ,” she hissed, rocking into his nice, thick cock. “So full of _shit_.”

“You like me this way.”

And yeah she did, but she wasn’t going to tell him that.

 

 

===

 

 

Smacking her lips together, Iyzebel curled into Sama’el’s arms, leg tucked between his thighs and nose tickling his neck. “I want to be human; can you do that for me?”

“Yeah,” he answered, fingers running over her side and she leaned up, looking down at him from a curtain of red hair.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

 

 

===

 

 

“I won’t remember you?” she asked, biting her lip as Sama’el got ready.

He looked up from where he was writing runes in _his_ **blood** on _her_ **body**. “No.”

“Oh…ok.”

With a sigh he stopped, leaning back as he just stared down at her with empty golden eyes. “Do you want me to stop? Because I can.”

“No,” she shook her head. “I don’t want to stop, but it’ll suck not remember who you are.”

“You will,” he said, trying to reassure her. Iyzebel didn’t know if it was a lie or not, she hoped not, but it made her feel better either way. “When the time comes you’ll remember. Now do you want me to continue?”

“Please.” She knew that she was going to miss him, but there was a feeling deep in the pit of her stomach that said it was going to be worth it.

 

 

===

 

 

She doesn’t remember much, only the red eyes that were now following her and with a sharp scream Lydia felt teeth rip into her side. And as she fell, the last thing she remembered was someone calling for her.

“Iyzebel!”

 

 

===

 

 

There was a knock on Stiles’ door, the house door not his room door and he glanced down at his watch frowning when he saw the time. The knocking came in fast, loud and angry raps, hard on the wooden door. And all though he really didn’t want to open it Stiles got up from his spot on the sofa, cursing whomever was knocking.

“Alright! Alright! I’m coming, hold our horses!”

When he opened the door he wasn't expecting the slap and even with _years_ of training he didn’t stand a chance in blocking it, not when it came fast and from a soft and small hand.

“You fucking bastard!”

Stiles stepped back, wirily eyeing the fuming red head. “Lydia?”

That seemed to anger the small girl because a sneer pulled over her gums, his eyes going to the smug of black laced over her teeth. “Shut the fuck up, Sama’el! I can’t fucking believe you let me treat you like a bitch, you stupid _chicken_!”

“Chicken? Really Iyzebel? Of all the insults you use chicken? Chickens don’t even fly,” Stiles said frowning.

Green eyes hardened into a glare. “Fuck you, like you know shit!” she screamed before throwing herself at him. Her warm curvy body pressing against him as she leaning up to suck Stiles into a kiss, “I missed you, you dumbass!”

“Miss you too, beautiful,” he said in-between kissed and Lydia moaned, enjoying the way his teeth drew blood, the way it smudged over his checks and chin. She was claiming him with _her_ blood, _her_ body. An excited shiver went down her spine as Stiles picked her up, letting her pale legs wrap around his waist as he pressed her into the wall.

Lydia rocked forward, body alright tight and wet for him and all Stiles needed to do was shove her bright yellow panties to the side and fuck himself inside her. It was exactly what he did and Lydia couldn’t find it in herself to care as he skipped the foreplay, just arching up into his thrusts, tightening her legs and arms as he breathed hot air into her neck. It was fast and uncaring and so _fucking_ good. And later she knew that he’ll grab the blade that was probably under his bed and carve marks into Lydia, rubbing her blood over his lips, his dick, against his chest right where his heart was. And it was cheesy and hot and so, so fucking good—did she mention that, because no one compared to Sama’el—and came.

 


End file.
